


Next Time Someone Tries to Rob Me of My Burglar, I'll Be Nicer

by allthewaytoerebor



Series: Reshirement Thorin and Bilbo [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Husbands, Jealous Thorin Oakenshield, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Thorin Is an Idiot, Yule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21987466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthewaytoerebor/pseuds/allthewaytoerebor
Summary: It is Yule in The Shire, and Bilbo and Thorin have a party to attend.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: Reshirement Thorin and Bilbo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761133
Comments: 11
Kudos: 154





	Next Time Someone Tries to Rob Me of My Burglar, I'll Be Nicer

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this from a prompt by @oakenshiields on twitter!  
> Enjoy!

The snow was falling silently outside in the frosty air, making the fireplace in Bag-End seem ever so appealing. But, how ever much Thorin and Bilbo might have desired the cosiness of the fire, they could not be stalling.

“Have you seen my shirt? The green one,” Thorin called after Bilbo.

“The green one? It’s right here, love,” Bilbo shouted from their bedroom. Thorin rushed into the room, running a comb through his hair. Bilbo reached out the shirt for Thorin to take. Thorin’s face softened as he accepted the shirt from Bilbo, before leaning forward and placing a kiss on Bilbo’s cheek. The shirt had been flung on the floor behind their bed during last night’s intimacy, and they’d forgotten about it, much too occupied with their other needs. Bilbo was disappointed to see Thorin put the shirt on – he’d been enjoying the sight of Thorin’s bare chest – but he had to admit that it looked lovely on him. It had golden buttons, and patterns embroidered onto it with a golden thread. Bilbo himself was dressed in a white button-up and a red west.

“You look handsome. You know, we could just-just not go…” Bilbo proposed, ready to cast Thorin’s shirt back onto the floor.

Thorin gave him a smile, “How ever much I would like to stay here, we have to go, it’s Yule!”

“Right, then,” Bilbo exhaled disappointedly before turning on his heel. 

“I’m ready to go, I’ll make sure we get good spots, we don’t want to end up next to the Sackville-Bagginses!” The hobbit hurried through the hallway, grabbing his coat before he reached the green entry door.

“And don’t take too long!” Bilbo yelled before stepping out of Bag-End and closing the door after him. Thorin grinned. He couldn’t count on one hand how many times Bilbo had complained about him being late, his husband knew well by now that he had a tendency to lose track of time.

Thorin was fast as he finished adorning himself. He took less than 10 minutes (which was a new record for him) to brush his hair, trim his beard, choose which boots he was going to wear, struggling to actually put on said boots, and finally shutting the entry-door after himself as he moved into the winter night.

The music from The Green Dragon became louder as he made his way down to the merry gathering of hobbits, keeping his hair shielded from the snow with his cloak. His boots made squeaks as they stepped through the fresh snow. There wasn’t much of it, barely covering the grass of the shire, but it was enough for there to be made footsteps as the dwarf strode towards the music, light, and cheer.

At last he made it to the pub. The Green Dragon was embellished with all sorts of decorations of green, red, white, and gold. The place was crowded. Thorin was sure that all of Hobbiton had gathered here, as he had never seen such a number of hobbits dancing, eating, drinking, and chatting in one place before. 

He scanned through the swarm to find a familiar face. Thorin wasn’t opposed to parties, in fact he quite enjoyed them, when they were with the right people. Hobbits were great companions for partying (as Bilbo had proven many times), but seeing as Thorin had only been in the shire since October, they hadn’t quite warmed up to him yet. He got a number of frowns and glares in his direction as he crossed his arms.

When he spotted Bilbo he was relieved; his lover was standing at other side of the room, with a cup of yule-ale in his hand, taking occasional sips from it. Bilbo seemed to be talking to someone. As Thorin got closer, and his sight was clear of drunken hobbits, he saw who he was chatting with. She was a hobbit with dark hair, seductive eyes, and an alluring smile. 

Thorin felt a pinch of bitterness and sighed at the sight of her. It was obvious what she was trying to do, with how she flipped her hair and giggled at everything Bilbo said. And then, she moved  _ closer _ to Bilbo. Jealousy struck Thorin in the face. How dared she? Thorin did not doubt that Bilbo would reject her. Nonetheless, this woman was trying to take something that wasn’t hers to take.

In a way, it amused Thorin. He stood and looked on for a moment, at how desperately she reached out and touched Bilbo’s shoulder and the panicked look that occurred on Bilbo’s face. Thorin’s expression became smugger by the second, thinking of how pathetic she was. Of course, this was just a way of brushing off his burning jealousy, which appeared every time someone got near to trying anything with his husband.

Thorin finally decided that enough was enough. He made his way over to his hobbit, who seemed to be in deep despair.

“Hello, gishavel,” Thorin spoke gently as he wrapped his arms around Bilbo from behind. Thorin felt him relax at the embrace.

“Thorin…”

“Took you long enough!” Bilbo complained as soon as the relief had faded away. He faced Thorin, who replied to his complaint by kissing him, not caring if others saw them, not afraid to show  _ who _ Bilbo belonged to. He let it last for a moment before withdrawing. 

Bilbo smiled, Thorin hadn’t displayed affection towards him publicly like this in the shire before, and it was certainly something he could get used to.

Too busy with themselves, Thorin and Bilbo had forgotten all about the poor woman standing oppose to them.

“Oh-I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” she explained embarrassedly.

They turned their attention towards her.

“Don’t worry yourself, Pamphia,” Bilbo said kindly before introducing Thorin, “This is my husband, Thorin.”

Thorin gave her a forced smile and nod, not very enthusiastic to continue conversation with the woman. She blushed and got the signal, uttering a goodbye before excusing herself.

“You could at least have said hello!” Bilbo turned to Thorin as soon as this “Pamphia” had left.

“Did you expect me to, when she has been trying to get in my husband’s trousers? I’m not very keen on sharing you,” Thorin raised his eyebrows. 

“And I wasn’t about to let her. Listen, there was no way she could have known,” Bilbo gave Thorin a disapproving look.

“Alright, You win. Next time someone tries to rob me of my burglar, I’ll be nicer,” he laughed.

“You clothea-” before Bilbo could finish insulting Thorin, he was shut up by the dwarf’s lips, smiling against his own. 

They spent the rest of the evening together. Bilbo introduced Thorin to the ones of his extensive family he had not yet met, and as friends of Bilbo’s came over to chat, Thorin kept his arm around his husband to make sure everyone knew that Bilbo was his. 

After a number of drinks, Bilbo invited Thorin to dance. He accepted Bilbo’s hand gladly; they lost track of time as they swung each other around. Though they had danced together many times before, Bilbo’s skill at dancing never failed to impress Thorin.

When they had managed to catch their breaths from their intensive dancing, Bilbo leaned in and whispered something in Thorin’s ear, which made him choke on his mulled-wine and very hasty to leave. Bilbo lead Thorin out of the pub with an excited grin. They kept their hands clasped together as they walked up the hill, the sounds from The Green Dragon becoming more distant with each step they took, much to their satisfaction.

Bilbo made a holt in front of the gate of Bag-End. He took Thorin’s other hand and looked up at him, studying the soft snowflakes that were melting where they landed on his brow, nose, and cheeks. Thorin beamed, his eyes, much like the snow, were delicate and mellow. Bilbo gave his hands a slight tug. Thorin let his shoulder and head be lowered so that they could kiss, their lips meeting sweetly. The air was cold, and the shared warmth between them was promising.

“Come, let’s light the fireplace,” Bilbo encouraged Thorin.

Thorin inhaled sharply, as though regretfully remembering something, “About that...I forgot to put out the fire before I left,” he confessed.

“You did WHAT?” Bilbo shook his head, “Thorin Oakenshield, you will be the death of me if you continue on like this,”

“Nothing burned down,” Thorin tried to calm his husband.

“Nothing burned down-well it could have!” Bilbo exclaimed.

“I’m sorry. Truly. Can you forgive me?” Thorin said regretfully, he hated seeing Bilbo distressed.

“Oh, don’t give me those eyes,” Bilbo cooled down, his voice becoming gentle, “of course I forgive you, now let’s see if that fire is still going,” he eagerly ushered Thorin through the gate and entry door. 

After they reignited the fireplace, Bilbo finally had the pleasure of throwing aside Thorin’s green shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you liked it, happy holidays!


End file.
